


Just a small thing

by Comixgal



Series: The Best Things Come in Small Packages [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Humiliation, M/M, Masturbation, Small Penis, Therapy, Verbal Humiliation, Vibrators, psychiatry, sexual therapy, tiny penis humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-15 09:29:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3442034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Comixgal/pseuds/Comixgal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agent Phil Coulson isn't handling stress very well and is ordered to complete a therapy session.</p><p>Dr. Clint Barton is a brilliant psychologist hired by the security firm Coulson works for.</p><p>Turns out that Barton has a qualification in sex therapy and Coulson's most recent relationship ended poorly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dr. Clint Barton looked his newest patient up and down. The suit was well tailored, the tie had a perfect windsor knot, and the man had the same unflappable calm that all the high-level agents seemed to possess.

Special Agent Phil Coulson was doing his own threat assessment of the psychologist that the firm had hired six months ago. The man looked fit under his polo shirt, with strong arms and a tapered waist. He sat with the sort of quiet attention that hinted to an awareness of everything that happened within his office. He also seemed completely unfazed by the intensity of Phil’s attention.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Agent Coulson.” Barton said. “I’ve wanted to make your acquaintance since that incident in Dubai.”

Coulson tried to read into the meaning of that statement - nothing had gone wrong in Dubai and everyone involved had deemed it a rousing success. The clients were happy, Nick Fury was happy, and his team was happy.

The psychologist was smiling, “I’m told that it was the most incredible mission and that everything went smoothly because of your planning and guidance.”

The agent nodded his acceptance of the compliment.

“So what brings you to my office?” He paused, “Or rather, why were you ordered to come see me?” Barton asked.

Phil straightened his tie and met the doctor’s eye without speaking. When his silence had no effect, he eventually said, “The second-lead of my group thinks I’m not handling stress as well as I should.”

“Your second-lead is Melinda May?”

Coulson nodded.

“Is there a reason she thinks that?”

“Our last meeting with the Director might have been unnecessarily heated.”

“You and the Director have a long history, correct? Could you argue that your familiar relationship led to the tone of the meeting?”

“No.” Phil said with curt honesty.

“Can you tell me what did?”

“My most recent relationship ended a week ago.” Coulson admitted. The psychologist met Coulson’s eyes with a look of subtle understanding. The agent hated it.

“Doctor or Professor?”

Phil blinked. “May said you did stuff like that.”

“I see best close up and I don’t enjoy playing mind games.” Barton shrugged. “You’re the type of person who would value an intellectual relationship as much as a physical one and you’re most likely to find a fulfilling but non-competing relationship with doctors or university professors.”

“He was a professor of military history.”

Clint nodded. “And the relationship ended?”

“He broke up with me.” Coulson admitted and then frowned at the completely irreverent snort that came from the other chair. He looked up to see the psychologist shaking his head.

“You expect me to believe that you didn’t manipulate him into breaking up with you?” The bright eyes met his glare without backing down.

Coulson cleared his throat, “He couldn’t handle how often I was away. I had to cancel too many dates.”

“You never called him or texted when you were away? Or sexted?”

“Of course not!” Coulson was appalled by the suggestion.

“I’ve been dragged on a few missions when profilers were needed.” Clint said conversationally. “The team always had enough downtime to send a quick note to partners or family.”

“They took you into the field?” The agent was shocked. “You’re a terrible liability.”

The insult did not have the desired effect. “Oh, they never gave me a gun or anything, but I’m quite skilled at hand-to-hand combat. Like I said, I see better close-up.”

The agent didn’t know what to say.

“Back to your breakup, do you want to tell me why you felt the need to end the relationship?”

Coulson glowered. “Can’t you just do that guessing thing and figure it out?”

“I don’t guess, Agent Coulson. I make calculated assertions based on observation.”

The man’s eyes narrowed.

“How was the sex?”

“Frequent, intense, and unsatisfying.” Coulson said.

Barton nodded. “And what was it you wanted that you weren’t getting?”

“How is that any of your business?” The agent demanded.

The psychologist pointed to one of the framed items on the wall. It read

_International Association of Sexuality Educators, Counselors and Therapists_

_Certified Sex Therapist_

It hung between his Yale diploma and a certificate declaring that he’d passed the _New York Circus School Clown Course_

Coulson waved at the certificates. “And people take you seriously?”

“I have over three hundred hours of experience providing sexual therapy. It was one of the reasons I was hired.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I certainly am. It isn’t uncommon for individuals in high-stress fields like security to be over-stressed to the point of anorgasmia. Or so busy that they’re abstinent by circumstance and not by choice.”

“I can orgasm just fine, thank you. And I have no problems finding sexual partners.”

Barton smiled. “I’m happy to hear that. Would you like to tell me why someone so well-spoken and sexually aware was unable to have a satisfying sexual relationship with his partner?”

Coulson stood suddenly. “We’re done here.”

The psychologist stood as well. He held out his hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Agent Coulson. I’ll let the Director know that you’ve completed your obligatory session. If, at some point, you’d like to come back to discuss your unfulfilled need for sexual humiliation, please make another appointment.

The agent dropped back down into the chair. “That is one hell of an ‘observation’.” He finally said.

Clint smiled. “We’re done for today, Agent Coulson. I’m going to send you two forms to fill out. One is to be answered while you’re aroused, the other should be after orgasm. They will be clearly labeled. Send them back to me. You can then choose to make another regular session or an active therapy session.” He smiled. “It’s a beautiful day outside. You should take a walk.” He gently pulled Phil out of the chair and led him to the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent Coulson arrives for his therapy session.

“Agent Coulson, it’s good to see you again.” Dr. Barton said sincerely as he entered the office where Phil was waiting. The briefest hesitancy in returning the greeting was all that betrayed the man’s apprehension. “Is there anything you’d like to discuss before we move to the other room?”

Phil shook his head. “I trust your judgement.”

Clint offered a brilliant smile. “I think we both understand what is going to happen. You’ve signed all the forms and we have both acknowledged the legal, professional, and personal boundaries in place.”

“Indeed.”

“Then why don’t you go into the room,” he pointed to a door, “and get undressed and onto the massage table.”

Coulson had been pleasantly surprised to learn that one of the many framed certificates on the wall included massage therapy. The suggestion that they start off with a full-body massage had been a welcome one.

The room was large enough to fit a bed, couch, and massage table. Phil put his clothes on a small dresser and settled face-down on the table. When Barton came in, Coulson was already beginning to drift off to sleep. The music that filled the room was also relaxing.

“The oil should be warm enough.” Barton spoke softly which made the click of the bottle sound loud. He watched the muscles jump as he poured the liquid onto Coulson’s broad back. Smiling at the aborted moan, he began the massage.

Half an hour later, he stopped and had to gently prod the agent awake. “There’s a bathroom through that door. You can wipe down and come join me on the bed. Keep the bathrobe on.”

As the psychologist cleaned up and put away the table he considered his next steps if Agent Coulson decided to cancel the rest of the session. He’d learned early on that this transitional time prior to a sexual therapy session was necessary and could go either way. He was holding his breath to find out which way Phil Coulson chose.

The door to the bathroom opened and Coulson emerged. He went to the bed and spent several moments reorganizing the pillows before situating himself comfortably. Barton noticed that he kept the bathrobe closed for the time being.

They had already discussed the type of hands-on therapy that Dr. Barton could provide. A giant pile of forms had been filled out and high-security video footage would be taken as a safety measure for both parties involved. With all the red-tape handled, Clint mentally shook himself in preparation -

“Open your robe.” Clint ordered gently. He watched the agent’s diaphragm rise and fall as he took a deep breath and let the edges fall open. The doctor allowed a smile to show around his mouth. “It’s so cute!”

Coulson inhaled sharply. His hands went immediately to cover himself. He eventually pulled them away, showing himself off again to Clint.

“Look at how small it is!” Clint exclaimed with obvious glee. He grinned down at the limp penis. “How’d a big man like you end up with such a little pee-pee?”

Phil responded hotly, shame making his cheeks burn. “Don’t call it that!”

“Then what do you call it?”

Phil was quiet.

“If you don’t give me a name for it, I’ll choose one myself.” The sullen silence stretched on for several seconds. “Then I’m going to call it your little winky. Your adorable little winky.” He watched the agent squirm. “Do you want me to touch it? Do you want me to make it feel good?”

Coulson nodded.

“Ask me for it. Ask me to touch your little winky.”

The agent’s breath caught twice in his throat before he could get the words out, “Please touch my little w- winky.” He clenched tightly at the fabric of the bathrobe.

Clint put his entire hand over the man’s crotch, using his other hand to push Phil’s hips back down when he bucked. “Ah, ah, ah.” He tsked condescendingly. “Just like a little boy with no control over himself. Is that what you are, Phil? A little boy with a little winky?”

“No!” Coulson insisted, “I’m-” He moaned as warm oil ran over the doctor’s fingers and onto his balls.

“You’re a little boy with no control?” Barton goaded. He spread the oil over the stiffening cock. “Awww, your winky is getting hard.” He let his fingers play teasingly along it.

Phil squirmed under the light touch. He couldn’t help how much it tickled but he knew that the other man would smirk and ridicule him if he tried to cover himself again. He barely held back a whimper when strong hands cradled his balls.

“Oh look!” The doctor said, “It’s almost as long as my finger!” Barton laid his index finger against the length.

Roiling shame coursed through the agent. He couldn’t watch as the man measured the length against his other fingers and laughed. He whined when a drop of pre-cum betrayed his conflicted desires.

“What a needy little boy you are.” Clint gently massaged the scrotum. “This doesn’t seem any smaller than normal.” He tugged at it to see Phil’s reaction. “Makes your little winky look even shorter!”

Phil panted, eyes averted from the gleeful derision that covered Barton’s face.

“Show me how you masterbate. Show me how you touch your little winky.”

“No!” Coulson exclaimed. He wouldn’t do that! “And stop calling it-- unh!” His protestations ended in a mewl of need - Clint had simultaneously pressed against his perineum and pinched the tip of his cock.

“I don’t recall giving you a choice, little man. Touch your tiny winky. I want to see how you pleasure yourself.” He pulled his hands away, leaving Phil feeling bereft and desperate.

With a sob of confused humiliation, Phil reached between his legs. He gripped himself loosely between thumb and forefinger and started rubbing up and down.

“Oh honey, is that your sex? Is that how little men like you get the pleasure they want?”

Phil gritted his teeth. He tried to wrap his large hand around himself and growled in frustration at how quickly he lost his grip. His self-disgust still rising, he went back to the tried-and-true method. He couldn’t block out Barton’s derisive chuckle.

“Almost there? Almost done pleasuring your little winky?”

The agent shook his head. “I can’t-” he cut himself off, unwilling to admit out loud that he needed help.

“Can’t what?” Barton goaded. “Can’t get off like that?” He watched the man flush brighter. “Do you need something inside you, little man?”

With difficulty, Phil released himself and pulled at the edges of his bathrobe. “Leave me alone.”

Clint reached for a box under the bed, “But I have just the thing. It will make you feel so good. Wouldn’t you like that? Wouldn’t you like to empty those heavy balls? Wouldn’t it feel so good to get relief?”

Coulson hesitated.

“Or were you lying to me?” Barton laughed. “That’s it, isn’t it? You can’t get off at all, can you? Are you a lying little boy?” He did a creditable imitation of Phil’s voice, “‘I can orgasm just fine, thank you. And I have no problems finding sexual partners.’”

“I can!” Phil insisted. Angry, he flung himself back down on the bed and refused to think about Clint Barton’s perfect recall - but there was no doubt that it would fuel his future fantasies. He returned to the desperate masturbation, hoping that, just this once, he could finish without additional stimuli.

When Barton judged that the agent was too caught up in his own need, he pressed a vibrating egg against the man’s perineum.

The stimulation was everything Phil needed. He came with a keening moan. Clint didn’t remove the vibration until Coulson winced away from the sensation and the tiny cock twitched.

Phil was panting and refused to make eye-contact with Clint. The doctor didn’t mind so much - he had to admit that the agent had affected him more than he cared to think about.

Dr. Barton moved away, giving Coulson space. “Take your time. Shower when you’re ready. I’ll be waiting for you in the office.” He moved even further away but did not leave the room, in case the agent exhibited any signs of stress or anxiety.

After catching his breath, Phil once again wrapped the bathrobe around himself and stood. With a grimace at the feeling of cold cum against his chest, he strode towards the bathroom.

Smiling, Clint went back to his office. He would need to strip the bed and wipe everything down, but it would be rude to do that before the client left. He washed his hands and then, to fill time, he started writing his notes of the session.

Agent Coulson returned to the office looking immaculate and calm. What was it about sexual humiliation that helped the man in his professional life? The psychologist part of Clint wanted to pursue that thought. The human part of Dr. Barton knew better than to pry.

“Thank you, Doctor.” Coulson held out a hand.

“Of course.” Barton responded. He knew he was imagining the lingering look that Coulson gave him. And even if he wasn’t, it didn’t matter. He let out an audible sigh when the agent left.

**Author's Note:**

> The American Association of Sexuality Educators, Counselors and Therapists (AASECT) would be the first to tell you that this is NOT how sexual therapy or counseling works.


End file.
